One of the more memorable number one singles of the 1990s was Baz Luhrmann’s reworking of a newspaper advice column which advised readers to wear sunscreen.
The song, for those who have memory-holed or have forgotten about it, went to number one in Ireland and the UK in the summer of 1999, combining a trip-hop beat and an actor reading off sage advice.
In the track, the listener is given advice such as “do one thing every day that scares you,” and “remember the compliments you receive; forget the insults.”
If you were in the Irish education system after the song came out in 1999, you might have been prescribed the song by a teacher who wanted to come across as cool and alternative.
Which brings us to this week’s topic; what is on the mind of a young person starting their third-level journey?
For the purposes of this article, this journalist will share what kinds of fears, anxieties and doubts they had as they started college over a decade ago.
To the surprise of no one who has read the Northside or Southside People since I joined the newsroom in June 2023, I have a background in film studies.
My third-level education began in September 2015 in University College Galway (but will always be known to Galwegians as NUIG), enrolling to study Arts with Film.
Film was the main subject, along with modules in sociology and politics, history, and philosophy.
My NUIG experience was, to be charitable, awful.
Going to film to study film and not enjoying it seems like a middle-class complaint (self-awareness is the first thing they teach you in a journalism degree), but the cards were stacked against a film student in those days.
Of the 25 or so students who attended the first lecture in September, just eight were still there by the time graduation rolled around in the summer of 2019.
NUIG taught pure film theory; there was the dangling carrot rope of getting to make your own films down the line, but that was after sitting through lectures about how Soviet cinema invited the montage, how Godard and Truffaut challenged storytelling norms in post-war France, and how Wong Kar-Wai used lighting in his dreamy, lush films.
The one year of fundamental film theory is, a decade later, the backbone of any review I write for this publication.
I was at NUIG to study film (in a film school named for John Huston), but it was the world around me that inspired me to open my eyes.
Having come from a political household (a county councillor father, something a psychologist would have a field day with), I also became politically engaged at that time of my life.
Being a 19-year-old and starting college in the first week of September 2015 was a potent time to suddenly lock into the world around me.
These are just some of the events in the headlines in my first few weeks of NUIG: Jeremy Corbyn is elected leader of the Labour in the UK, Bernie Sanders becomes a rockstar politician in the United States, Donald Trump’s campaign for Republican candidate is picking up steam, Greece are fighting Europe tooth and nail to avoid even more austerity, Podemos are shaking up the Spanish political landscape, some party called the Social Democrats have just been formed in Ireland, Justin Trudeau becomes the golden boy in Canada, and the biggest story of them all, Europe was in the grips of a refugee crisis.
The 2015 refugee crisis was a defining news story when this journalist started university
From a sporting point of view, Galway are just about to lose an All-Ireland hurling final to Kilkenny, and relegation-tipped Leicester have just signed this player called N’Golo Kante who can run 28 miles a game; all of that to say, it was an exciting time to be living away from home for the first time.
During a September 2015 screening of Citizen Kane for my studies (a great film, as it turns out), I realised the world around me was on fire in a literal and metaphorical sense, but also bursting with ideas and possibility.
The one subject I enjoyed from my time in NUIG was the combination of sociology and politics; I had a terrific lecturer named Brendan Flynn.
In one of the first lectures, he encouraged students to raise their hands and tell him what the most pressing issue facing Ireland; at the end, the class would then vote on which opinion was the most pressing from the random selection.
My contribution to the debate received exactly one vote in the straw poll, a brutal introduction to the world of politics (it turns out that “economic recovery” was very important to a room of 19-year-olds in 2015).
And that makes me think of what kind of world a 19-year-old is facing now; they have just done their Leaving Cert and have arrived on campus for their first week of college.
A young person starting their third-level journey is more than likely stressed about AI coming along and devaluing their degree in four years time, and they will be facing into a tough jobs market after they graduate.
Their teenage years were defined by the Covid-19 pandemic and the fallout, and they have seen a world become divided by social media algorithms.
In the heady days of 2015, everyone, regardless of age or political leaning, used Facebook and Twitter; now, only people who owned the Nokia 3310 use Facebook and the less said about Twitter, the better.
The generation starting college now has only ever known smartphones and a world with Wi-Fi; TikTok is the new TV, and the newspaper is something they only see in movies (or maybe something they have seen lying around the house).
The students starting third-level education in the next few weeks will be graduating in 2030 and 2031, to a world that is likely to have undergone even more changes.
It will be the lecture halls and breakout rooms of Dublin and beyond that will shape our future minds, and reveal our next generation of doctors, poets, solicitors, and ministers.
Studies are important, yes, but don’t forget to engage with the world around you; remember the songs that were playing in the nightclubs during freshers week, and remember what was in the news.
Third-level education is often when your belief system becomes more well-defined and rounded out; pick up on the influences and the world around you, and don’t be afraid to hash it out, whether with a like-minded friend or not.
The best education you can receive in third-level education isn’t what you learn in the textbook; it’s having the confidence to engage with the text and challenge the ideas presented to you.
You could coast along for four years on the “C’s get degrees” mantra, and that’s perfectly fine; but college becomes an enriching experience when you really dig into the world around you.
Don’t be afraid to speak to lecturers after the class ends, attend that 9am tutorial even if you stayed up until the small hours playing Football Manager, and volunteer to be the class rep.
When it comes time to write your first essay, find that spot in the college library to do your writing and make the charging ports your best friend.
Learn if you like to take caffeine or not. Carve out time in the day for exercise. Find out, and exploit every student discount in the book.
I can’t speak to how the Irish education system is preparing Leaving Cert students for third-level education, but I can only hope it was better than my situation.
One class a week, on a Wednesday, for 40 minutes, under the name of “Career Guidance.”
My school is renowned for producing rugby players, doctors, TDs and actors; it is not known for its practical advice to the class of 2015.
I can only hope that the class of 2026 have a better head on their shoulders.